


Black Mambo

by candlejill



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Bickering, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley thinks Aziraphale is falling, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Bondage, M/M, Mentions of past partners, Smut, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Wing Grooming, Wingfic, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-06 21:04:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20513474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candlejill/pseuds/candlejill
Summary: With the help of an epiphany through a vivid daydream, Aziraphale realizes he can have the demon he wants, the way he wants. Crowley, however, is not sold on Aziraphale's new plans.OrA story in which an angel tempts a demon.





	1. Paperback Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started out as inspiration from the Glass Animals song Black Mambo. It grew to have a bit more substance. 
> 
> It's my headcanon that Aziraphale gives off big This Guy Fucks vibes and no one can convince me otherwise. I also like playing with the idea of Aziraphale being the more hedonistic one.
> 
> This was generally the playlist that inspired this fic:  
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLnAjBQAstdJ5W5oofrQvncknnfx4GrgYs

_Paperback dreams _  
_ In their deep doze _ _  
Twitch their toes to black mambo_

_ Slow down _  
_ It's a science _  
_ He's been waiting _ _  
To bring you down_

_ Snake eyed _  
_ With a sly smile _  
_ He can hold you _ _  
And shake you child_

* * *

It was an excellent text, that much Aziraphale would say for certain. A recently unearthed volume that was recorded around 2600 BC. Albeit polytheistic and less prophetical than his usual taste, but still fascinating. He always found it refreshing to look back to seemingly simpler times. At any rate, his palette was rather soured from anything Biblical at the moment and this was the perfect distraction.

Only short weeks had passed since The End of Days that had not ended a thing except his relationship with Heaven. His routine went back to normal for the most part, though he was greatly enjoying no longer needing to send memos upstairs. The freedom was a exhilarating but without the strict guidance, and slight aura of fear hovering endlessly over his shoulder, he occasionally felt lost.

His belief in Adam’s words were strong enough to feel like neither Heaven nor Hell would be interfering, not anytime soon at least. But something still scratched at him wrong. Like clothes suddenly too tight or a colony of ants crawling haphazardly over his limbs. Itching and bothersome. He should be happy, he supposed. They had succeeded against all odds afterall! Quite literally, there hadn’t been a single hope that they should survive that little stunt against all powers of Heaven and Hell, and here they both sat, he and Crowley casual as could be in the backroom of Aziraphale’s bookstore. One sorting through ancient tomes and the other-

When Aziraphale lifted his head to see what his wily cohort had found to occupy his time he saw those familiar glasses gazing back. Studying and knowing with a familiar sly smile.

Crowley tossed the thin paperback in his hand to the floor, “I don’t want to read, angel.”

With increasing difficulty, Aziraphale ignored the way Crowley led with his hips as he stood from the sofa. It was particularly challenging as said hips were sauntering directly towards him. 

Crowley stopped nearly touching his knees. He reached for the book Aziraphale held (carefully gathered parchment, more like) and threw it carelessly on the desk. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale made to stand in protest but Crowley stopped him as he slid closer between his legs. “You cannot take something of _ that value_ and treat it like any old, over produced pulp nonsense!” He chirped nervously.

It was a smirk, one he knew well. A smirk looking down at him, already appreciating that Aziraphale would forgive of all his trespasses. It should disturb Aziraphale but then his thoughts were derailed as Crowley said, “I can feel you, you know?”

Bristling, Aziraphale sat straight with a sudden need to lean away from his devious friend’s attempt to unsettle him. “I’m sure I don’t know-”

“The unease in your soul, angel. You’re restless.” Crowley leaned down slightly, “Me too,” he confided.

With large imploring eyes, Aziraphale looked back to him, “Well, it’s only natural after the trials we’ve been through.” He was sure that sounded confident, right? Though, with Crowley’s proximity he couldn’t truly be certain he believed it. He badly wanted to reach out and remove those blasted glasses blocking the stunning eyes behind them.

Like he could read his mind, Crowley removed them. He threw them to the floor, focused only on Aziraphale, “It’s time to stop this dance, don’t you agree? I feel quite done with it really. Six thousand years is long enough.”

“I haven’t the foggiest- long enough for _what?_ What dance?”

Crowley huffed a laugh, “We’re going to fuck, angel. What’s to hold us back now?”

“I beg your-” Aziraphale protested. Trying to stand he was stopped again as Crowley put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. 

“Beg me? Yeah, I think I'd like that. We’ll have to revisit it. But for now, this is where we’ve been leading over the millenia and you know it, Aziraphale. Don’t play dumb. Not now after everything. It might have worked on those other suckers but I see through it.” 

Adjusting his footing, Crowley moved to straddle Aziraphale’s legs then promptly sat on his lap. Weighted pressure now held him firmly in place. Those slender fingers slid through his hair, rough and tugging making him shiver before Crowley dropping down to caress his cheek considerately. 

Aziraphale was shaking. It had all happened so fast. He knew he should be protesting but before he had the opportunity, Crowley’s hands were on his shirt collar pulling him in. Lips bruising against his own. He could taste Crowley as his tongue forced its way into his mouth.

“Slow down,” he gasped, still in a bit of shock.

They weren’t the right words. _ Stop! Don’t! Fuck off! _ Surely those would have been better, but nevertheless, Crowley listened. His tempo slowed to something Aziraphale could accommodate and he should be ashamed that he did. He _was_ ashamed, wasn't he? But then Aziraphale practically laved over Crowley’s tongue like he was some rare delicacy. He supposed he was, in his own way. 

But _ what _ was he thinking? 

“No! Crowley. Stop this!” He protested.

Finally leaning back, Crowley narrows his eyes, “I’ve been waiting, _ we’ve _been waiting, for so long-”

“You’ve been waiting for what? To bring me _ down_? Is this temptation the grandest of your schemes over six thousand years in the making? _ That’s _ what I’ve been to you all along?”

The smile is sweet but the words still stung to hear, “Of course, angel. But it’s not as if you haven’t already fallen, you're just waiting for the official drop. I can’t really take full credit for this one. _You _ rebelled. You disobeyed every order Heaven had to give and right as it mattered most. They didn’t want you to simply fall, angel, they wanted you completely and utterly destroyed. By Hellfire, noless! And now you think, what? A little lust over a demon is going to put you on God's naughty list? When destroying the plans for the apocalypse didn’t? It’s true I’ve wanted this from the beginning, but at some point you have too. So don’t blame me for all of it.”

“I didn’t _ disobey! _” Aziraphale glanced down meekly, avoiding Crowley’s knowing eyes, “I just, slightly disagreed with how management was operating.” He was afraid to look up and see what Crowley might read from him.

“You _ did_, you disobeyed,” he replied, firm yet doting. “And you’re still here. You’re with me. You told Heaven to fuck off, and you’re still here. But even if you _ do _fall, do you think Hell would want you? You’re stuck with me, angel. Formally Fallen or not. No one else will take us so why deny ourselves based on _ their _ rules?”

Aziraphale's heart was racing.

The words were harsh but no less true. 

He was no longer part of Heaven. And he’s absolutely positive Hell wanted nothing to do with either of them. So, if he and Crowley decided to enjoy each other, in _one_ more way, how could that possibly be any worse than what they had already done?

Crowley leaned close and spoke softly against his ear. “When you’re done working this out I’m going to pull you from this chair and fuck you against that bookshelf. I saw how much you enjoyed being handled at the old convent, don’t think I didn’t. I have over six thousand years pent up of things I’d like to do to you, angel. If the only way we can get rolling is by me restraining you and pumping into you while you scream your protests in ecstatic delight then, so be it. Maybe you'll need further restraints, perhaps your hands feel like they may not wish to cooperate with this plan, maybe you’re feeling like you’d like to push me away, can’t have that. I’ll have no choice but to string you up like a common whore and have my way, fucking the goodness out of you while you’ve no choice but to take it.”

With his jaw hanging slightly, Aziraphale shivered at the litany of vulgarity escaping this nearly unfamiliar creature’s lips.

With a snap, a cool breeze passed over his body as his clothes disappeared. His arms reached up, tied tight with fabric binding his wrists. He was now standing, pushed against the bookshelf as promised, with Crowley breathing on his neck. 

“This is what you want, Aziraphale. Don’t try to convince me or yourself otherwise.”

He knew soon Crowley would be inside him and at that thought, Heaven help him, Aziraphale let out a low moan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk Good Omens with me at http://candle-jill.tumblr.com


	2. Snake Eyed with a Sly Smile

Aziraphale let out a low moan.

“What was that?” The confusion was obvious as Crowley looked over the top of the book he was holding. Something large with diagrams of constellations. He didn’t often like reminiscing, especially not on topics of Pre-Fall. But with the recent events of the almost apocalypse he couldn’t help but to remember where it had all truly started as he sat on the small sofa across from Aziraphale’s chair in the backroom of his shop.

Aziraphale’s cheap paperback fell to his lap, one of the new additions Adam decided to include while fixing the bookstore. It was a kind gesture but Crowley knew it bothered Aziraphale slightly that they were co-mingling with his vast collection. The book landed in his lap, not so conspicuously concealing the view of a very traitorously discernable spot.

“Hmm, what’s what, my dear?” Aziraphale asked gently flustered. 

“What the devil have you been thinking about, Aziraphale?” Crowley asked with a soft smile. “I swear, the last twenty minutes you haven’t _ touched _ a page of that book.” He put his own down now. “What has you _ so _ enthralled that you’d ignore reading a new favorite?” He shouldn't tease - or actually, he should. He was still a demon after all.

Aziraphale glanced away. He was blushing, Crowley could see it. He was a celestial being but the constraint of this human form was overpowering and Aziraphale couldn’t stop the rise of heat to his face. It was endearing.

“Nothing, my dear,” his reply was strained.

Crowley’s grin was open and wide. He sat forward with rapt attention, “Oh no, please continue. I have to hear this.”

Aziraphale looked down and began fidgeting with his fingers. He laughed awkwardly, “It’s nothing! Truly. I was just allowing my mind to wander-”

“Mmm, yes, but to what subject? What could possibly have you so forgetting yourself that you’d moan like a wanton harlot in the middle of your shop? That _ is _ the question.”

_ “Crowley,” _ Aziraphale pled, but to no avail. “We’re not in the _ middle _ of the shop,” he attempted to deflect meekly.

Amused, Crowley continued, “Aww, share with the class, won’t you? This is far more entertaining than any book. I can’t bear to look at the page a second longer.” The lie left his tongue easily but he supposed its own way it was was true enough. All that reflection and introspection was rather dampening his mood. And seeing Aziraphale flustered so easily was definitely an improvement. Crowley’s smile was genuine and his attention was held firmly in front of him.

A pained, disingenuous smile was returned to him. Crowley could tell Aziraphale was desperate to think of any excuse.

“Oh, it must be good if you’re taking this long to think of an answer,” Crowley snarked.

“If you must know," he huffed without thought, "I was thinking about you fucking me against the bookshelf.” Aziraphale blurted out, stressed and tense, and he looked as shocked as Crowley felt after the words had escaped his lips.

_“You what? _” Crowley asked incredulously.

“Uh, that is to say-”

Crowley stared back, slack jawed and eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. 

The room was tense as Aziraphale stood awkwardly, continuing to fidgeting as he reasoned, “I, uh, don’t suppose we could just forget I said that, could we?”

“No, we most certainly cannot.” Blinking from his stupor, Crowley shook his head, “Let me get this straight. You fantasized about making love… to _ me? _”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows lifted and he tilted his head, conceding, “I don’t know if you could call it _ making love _ in this particular instance but, yes, of course.” It seemed obvious enough to him.

“I- uh,” stammering, Crowley continued, “I truly don’t know what to say, angel. Not quite what I expected, to be honest.”

Rushing to the sofa, Aziraphale sat next to him, pleading, “Oh, I do hope I haven’t offended you.”

“Uh,” mumbling he replied, “Er- no, I don’t think that would be the right word for it.”

“It’s just, we’ve never talked about it before-”

“No,” Crowley agreed. “And for good reason,” he shook his head. This wasn’t a topic he had ever _planned_ on discussing. “It’s never going to happen.”

“What do you mean it’s _ never _ going to happen?” Aziraphale whined, suddenly taken aback.

“It’s _ never _ going to happen, angel,” he repeated softly as he tilted his head to the side.

“Yes, I heard you, but _ why?” _

“Aziraphale,” Crowley turned to study his face.

“Oh,” the angel replied sullenly in realization. “I see, I didn’t- I just thought-” He turned away, unable to bear Crowley’s rejecting gaze on him. “You know I can sense love and after all these years I had assumed-”

“I love you.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale answered dejectly. “My mistake.”

“No. I’m telling you, I _ do _ love you, Aziraphale.” 

He turned, posture straightening with hope, “Then, I don’t understand?”

Sighing, Crowley removed his glasses and set them to the side, “I’m only going to say this one time, because acknowledging it at all is it’s own special torture but after all these years and after everything we've been through, I suppose I owe you that much.” He took a deep breath. The pause was too long for Aziraphale to bear but eventually Crowley continued, “It’s because I love you that we’ll never be… _ that. _ Intimate. Lovers. Whatever you want to call it.”

“That makes absolutely no sense!”

Crowley spoke tenderly, “There aren’t many rules I make myself abide, but I vowed I would never let _that_ happen. It can _ never _ happen. I would never forgive myself if you-”

“Fell?” Aziraphale supplied sharply.

Crowley tried to turn away but Aziraphale reached out and held tight to his hands.

“Yes. That.”

Smiling sweetly, knowingly, Aziraphale lifted his hand and kissed the knuckles. “My dear, it’s too late for all that now.”

Brow furrowing in confusion and near panic, Crowley asked harshly, “_What? _ What happened?”

“Nothing and that’s the point. I rebelled against Heaven. I threw in Gabriel’s face what they told me was _ The _ Divine Plan. I _ disobeyed_. And look, here I am. Fine. Better than fine!” He squeezed Crowley’s hand gently.

“No,” Crowley shook his head, finally pulling his hands from Aziraphale. He stood up, facing away from the angel. “That’s not-” hands on his hips, he sighed, “No, we can’t. What if this-”

“I understand you’ve been laboring under this fear. I have as well. But it simply isn’t a problem anymore. And even if it were,” Aziraphale stood, walked over, and reached his arm to Crowley’s shoulder, “_Where _ would I fall, exactly? Even if it’s true. If my love for you is finally the point which breaks this delicate web, where would I go? Hell surely wants nothing to do with me. I wouldn’t make a very good demon.” 

Crowley turned, with a deep sadness he said, “Hell isn’t the only part of falling, angel. You’d no longer have Her grace, the divine light and- and warmth, and if I took that from you I could never forgive myself. I- I’d drive to the first fontful of holy water and dive in head first, I would never be able to live with myself if I did that to you.”

“Oh, Crowley,” he smiled warmly, crinkles at the corner of his eye. “That was nearly romantic,” he reached again for Crowley prompting him to turn reluctantly. _“Definitely_ dramatic. But you’ll do no such thing because I will not fall. You’re worrying unnecessarily.”

“If it’s so unnecessary then why suddenly bring it up at all? We’ve been fine all these years, haven’t we? Nothing needs to change!”

“I suppose it’s because I’ve already rebelled. I _ do _ feel more confident. I’m not questioning _God's _divine judgement, though. Just that of the Archangels. Being intimate with you wouldn’t question that either.”

“Aziraphale, listen to yourself! Wanting to, you know, properly _ consort _ with a demon? A-and you remember what happened to the the Nephilim! Or," he paused at the sudden thought that he might talk Aziraphale out of this, "Did you ever think that maybe this was one of my greatest _ wiles _ all along? Six thousand years in the making. Corrupt an angel? Might just be enough to buy back some redemption in Hell.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale shook his head, “You hate Hell. You practically ran the place, they loved you, and you still despised it. Why would you go back now after you defied every single one of them?”

“Yeah but-” furrowing his brow, Crowley crossed his arms, “Okay, fine. Valid point. But still-”

Aziraphale waited patiently, but he had nothing and they both knew it. “If you don’t want to because of a lack of genuine interest, I completely understand. Well, actually I don’t because I’m fairly certain I’m not mistaken about my impression.” He shrugged, “And if there is any truth to the rumors I’ve heard about your exploits-”

“Which rumors are those exactly?” Crowley asked suddenly curious.

“Well, I suppose it started in Rome.”

“When?”

“Caligula.”

“Oh,” Crowley sighed and walked decisively back over to the sofa. He grabbed his glasses, put them on, and sat down. Miracling himself something that looked suspiciously like fine whiskey, he drank straight from the bottle. “Alright then, let’s have it. What did you hear?” The question hung resolutely. Crowley remembered his reputation from that era. He had some idea of what Aziraphale was about to say.

Pursing his lips slightly, Aziraphale looked away, “Just that you sounded to be very _ talented. _ And one of his favorites.”

“Is that all?” He frowned almost disappointed. “Whispers of Roman nobility. Exaggerated tales from orgies,” he waved off.

Aziraphale’s blush had returned, “And on one particular occasion I may have witnessed-”

“What?" He sat abruptly suddenly ignoring his drink, "You were actually _ there? _” 

“When I had heard of his parties I tried to inspire piety among the people. At the very least I tried to get them to pause and question their actions. But as you well know, that rather amounted to nothing. Not one of the better ways to spend my time, I’ll admit.”

“So, what exactly did you see, angel?” Crowley knew it couldn't have been much but just knowing Aziraphale had attended one of Caligula's parties made him shiver.

“I saw his rather lurid public appraisal of you, to be honest. Stripped in front of everyone, you looked in your element and hardly phased by it at all, I will say.”

The corner of his lips pulled into a small smile, “You saw that? And you _ liked _ it?”

“Not at the time!” Aziraphale protested. “How he spoke of you! The things he did to you and shared so openly? I was enraged for years.”

“You sound jealous.”

“Jealous!” He said scoffing incredulously. After thinking a moment he conceded, “Actually, I rather think you’re right what with how everything has turned out now. But _ at the time _ I just didn’t like to hear anyone speak of you like cattle, listing your traits like that. It was horrendous.”

“It wasn’t true. None of it. He took me back to his rooms, like he did, and I’d put him in a bit of a trance. One snap and it was easy enough to fall into his good favor. I made him think he’d gotten whatever it was he wanted, and exceeded his wildest expectations besides.”

“So,” Aziraphale started slowly, “You never-”

“Good Lo- Sa-, no, angel,” Crowley’s smile was thoroughly amused.

“What about in Greece? 

“So help me Satan, if you are about to say you heard I inspired satyrs or some nonsense, I will walk right out of this shop, Aziraphale.” 

He shrugged awkwardly, obviously trying to avoid confirming Crowley’s accusation.

“That was a nasty rumor started by Dagon.” He rolled his eyes, “Look, I can see you’ve been following my extensive career of tempting mortals and inspiring lust but I’m going to disappoint you further by letting you in on perhaps my most guarded secret. My _ experience _ in _ that _ area is probably, uh, greatly exaggerated at best. But really, what’s the big deal about it anyway? For us, I mean. I get why the humans like it, all those hormones and fleeting life draining from them day after day.”

“Wait. Are you saying… you’ve _ never?” _Aziraphale shook his head ignoring the rest of his speech, “You can’t be serious.”

“Not _ never, _ ” he hissed. “Just, you know, _ limited _ experience.”

“But, how limited? Even _ I _ have-”

“Please spare me the details, I remember well enough. Why do you think I slept through the better half of the 19th century?” he mumbled.

“_T__hat’s _ where you were? Sleeping away your jealousy?”

Standing, trying hard not to stumble, Crowley denied, “Wasssn’t jealous.” Aziraphale’s smug smirk did nothing to convince him he believed him. “I wasn’t.”

“Fine,” Aziraphale shrugged.

“Fine,” Crowley mocked back.

Shaking his head, Aziraphale tried again, “I’m sorry if this is all rather abrupt and I understand if you’re not interested.”

“Abrupt?” Crowley laughed, “Abrupt? This is the culmination of over six thousand years of a rather specific yet undefinable relationship!” He’d seen the signs coming for years now. It was especially difficult when they were raising Warlock. He knew it was only a matter of when. The time they spent preventing the apocalypse only hurried it along. It was as if the last decade were pushed into overdrive, demanding the break at this very moment. 

“Well then, if that’s you implying you are interested, why are you protesting?!” Aziraphale took a step closer, crowding in as he tried to hold back his building irritation.

“I told you we-”

“_'We can’t_.' Yes. But what you mean is _ you _won’t.”

“However you’d like to think of it,” Crowley shook his head petulantly.

“_I_ _ think _ you’re infuriating.”

“I am.”

“Insufferable.”

“Sure.”

“Stubborn,” Aziraphale huffed leaning closer.

“That’s me.”

“Now you won’t even quarrel with me?”

“Not when I agree with you.”

“I don’t know why I ever decided to tolerate you in the first place,” Aziraphale wrung his hands in frustration.

“Couldn’t resist a bad boy, eh?” He let a smug smile escape.

“Oh, please,” Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“The original one, too.” 

“You taking credit for original sin doesn’t make you the original ‘bad boy.’ Technically, yes fine the apple _ was _ your doing, but I know you don’t have a malicious bone in your serpentine body. Don’t even get me started on all the wonderful, caring, thoughtful deeds I’ve seen you do over the millennia. And now I can properly thank you because you can’t use Hell hearing about it as an excuse to assuage your embarrassment.”

“You _ wouldn’t,_” Crowley inhaled, sharply narrowing his eyes.

“Oh wouldn’t I?” He smirked, “I saw you help Mrs. Tinley cross the road the other day. You even picked up her groc-” 

“Stop!” Aziraphale’s back was slammed hard against the wall as Crowley’s hand covered his lips, forcing the words to fall muffled beneath twitching fingers. 

Crowley could feel the way his body responded with the nerves strumming through his limbs. His heart raced treacherously with the distraction of Aziraphale against him. Blessed human bodies. Throughout all the time they’d spent together, increasingly more within the last few years, he still grew anxious every time they brushed fingers or bumped arms. And now his body was flush against the angel’s, held tight against the bookshelf. 

Crowley fought to sneer, “I was stalling traffic by shuffling her across the street as slowly as possible, holding up very important meetings, and don’t- _ Hey!_” He pulled his hand away from Aziraphale’s mouth, “Did you just _ lick _ me?!” Shaking his hand in surprise, he firmly wiped the saliva off onto the beige coat in front of him.

“You _ weren’t _ stalling traffic, you were helping her after her surgery. It was sweet.”

“Ssshut up!” 

“I’ve seen you do it more than once, even when no one was-”

Seething, Crowley pushed closer without thought. He shoved his lips harshly against Aziraphale’s. It had the intended effect, he quieted immediately, but then Crowley noticed how soft the angel felt. Those pillowy lips against his thin ones and the warmth of his stomach bleeding into the fabric where they touched. 

Just as he was about to pull away, Aziraphale reached out to his jacket collar and pulled him back. As he gasped from the surprise, he felt the soft wet flicker of Aziraphale’s tongue touch tentatively against his own.

He really hadn’t thought this through. 

Emboldened by the pause, Aziraphale licked further into Crowley’s mouth. His hands trailed up to cup Crowley’s jaw. And Crowley could no longer fight it. Thousands of years _ was _ too long, and Aziraphale tasted better than anything he had experienced on this earth so far. He deepened the kiss, drawing that teasing tongue further into his mouth, then gently pushed it back with his own. He felt like he was trembling. _ Was _ he trembling? Was that _ him _quivering under the grasp the angel had, holding him tight against his body.

He was close to pleading for mercy. It was cruel what Aziraphale was doing to him, offering himself so openly, knowing it can never be. 

With a firm shove, he pushed back breaking the seal of their lips.

“Stop,” he shouldn’t be breathless when he didn’t need air, but here he was, panting soft tremulous breaths trying to reconcile what had just happened. “This can’t-” he shook his head and took a step back. “I’m leaving, angel.” 

Crowley turned quickly and fled, trying his hardest to block out the protests from Aziraphale behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk Good Omens with me at http://candle-jill.tumblr.com


	3. Slow Down It's a Science

It was two weeks before Crowley was brave enough to step into the bookshop again. Aziraphale had felt certain it would take longer. After _That Night _ he had thought of little else than what it felt to have Crowley flush against him. And how he tasted. And the exquisite way he fell into Aziraphale with barely any encouragement. 

He wanted it just as much as Aziraphale did, that much he was certain.

So, while he wasn’t entirely surprised Crowley was back, he had expected it to take much longer to show his face. 

He had also anticipated more awkwardness to pass between them. Aziraphale may have even practiced a conversation or two to properly address all of Crowley’s concerns (and why they were unnecessary). But neither one brought up _ That Night_. Aziraphale continued filing books around the shop while Crowley scoffed at the dust. 

The companionable silence was comforting to Aziraphale. It was like he could finally relax now that Crowley was within his grasp again. They had been spending more time together even before _That Night_ and he was surprised at how lonely he became when Crowley continued to stay away. However, he vowed not to let his mind wander this time (though he’d gladly change that if he’d know for certain Crowley wouldn’t run if he was caught at it again).

It was a bit of a surprise when Crowley finally spoke after some time.

“When?” He demanded.

“_'When’ _ what, my dear?” Aziraphale continued to absently place books on the shelf in his best attempt to exude a calming air of indifference toward his now blustering guest.

“When did you know? How long?”

With a hidden smile Aziraphale turned away from Crowley’s line of sight, “You’re going to have to be more specific.” 

Though he didn’t. Aziraphale knew exactly what he was asking and he couldn’t help but wind him up a bit after storming out of his shop so rudely the last time.

Crowley sighed dramatically and jammed his hands into his small pockets, “When did you _know_ know? You know?”

“I’m sure I don’t.”

“Look, I can see you smirking back there. You know what I’m asking, don’t make me say it.”

“Alright,” he smiled genuinely and returned the rest of the books. Turning sharply towards his friend, he continued, “When did I _ know _ that I was deeply, madly, devastatingly in love with you?”

“Right, well if you’re gonna be a knob about it-”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale chastised, though without much heat as he_ was _ rather being a tease and he knew it, “I believe it was 1941. The Blitz.”

“The church?” He walked closer.

“It _ was _ rather romantic, you can’t deny that.”

“Braving consecrated grounds does it for you, eh?” Crowley scoffed, “The smell of Nazi bits in the air?”

His smile was small but the love in his gaze shone through as he sighed, “It was the books. You remembered the books.”

Crowley paused, considering before saying, “You’re telling me I could have come back here after that and shagged you senseless?”

“Good Lord, no. That was only when I first realized the nature of what I felt for you. I always knew I had a fondness, of course. Took me quite a few more decades to sort it all out in my head. And just the one apocalypse before I realized we could actually act on it.” Lifting the next pile of books he turned away and added softly, “Speaking of acting, that offer currently stands. You may ‘shag me senseless’ _ now. _ Anytime from this point on, really.”

“Not as fun to tease you when you play along,” Crowley replied dryly.

Aziraphale turned towards him as Crowley walked closer, “I didn’t burn, you know.” A quiet, still timid part of himself was waiting for the fall after Crowley left his shop. It didn’t mean Aziraphale wasn’t still confident in what he’d told him, he was. But the Almighty does work in her own ways and it would be blasphemous and prideful of him to insist he knew fully what her plan was. He sighed, “We kissed and nothing happened. You can pretend it didn’t if you like, but it did. You aren’t going to make me fall, Crowley. I wish you’d realize how foolish that is and just leave that thought behind.” Shaking his head he added, “If defying Heaven’s orders wasn’t enough then I doubt _ you _ could do anything to me.”

“Oh, I dunno,” he smiled wickedly, making Aziraphale's heart race faster. Crowley added, lifting his eyebrows pointedly, “You don’t know what it is that I can do.” 

“A rather large amount of ‘nothing’ if your history dictates,” Aziraphale retorted. Really, if he wasn’t going to follow through on his ‘threats’ then there was no point taking them seriously.

“Wha- sh-” Crowley struggled embarrassed, “Ju-just because I _ don’t _ regularly, _ you know, _ doesn’t mean I can’t! And it doesn’t mean that I don’t know what I’m doing! I have been tempting people for eras! There are several acts that _ I _ inspired!”

“Of course, dear.”

“Named after me an’ everything!”

“I believe you.”

He protested, “Wo-would you just- N-no. Just because _ you _ decided to fuck around the whole nineteenth century it does not mean that you _ do _ know what you’re doing. Or that you’re any good at it.”

Aziraphale glanced sideways to Crowley with mirth gleaming in his eyes, “Oh, but if only there were some way we could test out this hypothesis!” He failed to hold back the sarcastic smile, “Something we could do to compare our respective prowess, perhaps?”

“You’re a right bastard.”

“That’s why you love me.” He could well and truly feel it, too. Aziraphale had no idea how he’d ever mistaken it for anything else. Maybe with the fear of divine retribution he simply blocked it out, but without that apprehension he could fully bask in the aura of Crowley’s love. It was singularly exquisite and far more intoxicating than anything he kept hidden in the backroom.

“Yeah, well, I’ve changed my mind on that. I _ never _ would have said a thing if I’d have known you’d become this insufferable.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.”

Shaking his head Crowley said, “It doesn’t have to change anything! I don’t understand why things have to change just because you know now. It’s not like I was subtle all this time. And it’s not like I haven’t been dealing with this for six thousand years on my own.”

Had Crowley really loved him so long? Aziraphale studied him carefully, “Is that really when? Has it truly been that long?”

Stammering, Crowley relented, “Eh, well ah- give or take a few thousand.”

“Tell me?”

“There’s really not much to tell, angel.”

“My heart melts everytime you call me that. It always has,” Aziraphale sighed distracted. Shaking his head, he continued, “Please, I need to know.”

Crowley glared at him assessing before finally relenting, “The moment I saw you and you admitted to giving away your sword, given to you by God herself, I knew you were different.” He confessed, “Maybe that was the moment, sometimes I wonder.”

“Love at first sight?” The thought of that was more romantic than Aziraphale could bear. And Crowley, suffering in silence for over six thousand years? His heart swelled. 

“Well, not entirely.”

“What do you mean?” He asked trying to hold back his disappointment.

“Well, there were a few hundred years in there where it fluctuated a bit. You seemed to just ‘tow the company line’ with the rest of the angels. You just fall in order while your lot are off killing children, _ really? _Slightly put me off to be honest. At the very least it reminded me what you are. But let’s just say, overall, you piqued my interest at first sight. You were just so fascinating for an angel,” Crowley smiled fondly. “That floppy white hair and that self righteous earnestness you had while still messing up God's plan without _ any _ help from me. It’s was completely endearing and I definitely would have made The Effort that day, that’s for sure. I mean, if I had known what it was back then.” 

“I see,” Aziraphale replied thoughtfully. “So, if you were only intrigued in Eden, when were you certain you loved me?”

Smiling, he said, “Eh- well, I always felt inexplicably drawn to you. Definitely had a few thoughts cross my path, a few temptations I wanted to throw your way. Wanted to, but never would. I knew they were just fleeting reveries. I liked you the way you were and I didn't want to chance anything.” Crowley tilted his head in thought before continuing, “Since you brought it up before, I guess it was around Caligula when I knew for certain. Unfortunately for me, it wasn’t while spotting you at an orgy because you can be certain I would have said something to you. Next time we happen to both attend the same one, please be sure to let me know.”

Furrowing his brow in interest (and ignoring the casual ‘orgy’ quip), Aziraphale asked directly, “What was it that made you realize?” 

He wasn’t sure if Crowley would answer but then he shrugged.

“The humans, they really were turning out to be complete shit at the time. I went there to tempt Caligula but he really didn’t need any help at all, as you know. He came up with far worse than I could ever. And then you show up and I think, ‘Oh, maybe this is your side's fault. Heaven’s great plan all along! Your lot always seemed to be involved in the worst ones.’ But you looked so pleased to see me. You opened your mouth and all you could think about was getting some bloody oysters._ Oysters? _ It really doesn’t make sense when I think back on it all now but,” he offered a crooked smile, “You said, in the most innocent way possible that you wanted to ‘tempt’ me to an aphrodisiac of all things, and the metaphorical hell choirs just flooded open from below, sang hymns of your praise. My damned heart never stood a chance after that. Second you said that, I wanted you for my own. ‘Course I kept that part to myself over the last few hundred years.” 

“Crowley,” he said softly. His eyes welled up at the soft confession. He had to tell him, “I am, you know.”

“What’s that?” 

Smiling, he breathed softly,_ “Yours.”_ It felt so good to finally admit it. This feeling was one he’d grown so familiar to fight down. Hiding it and making sure it never saw day. It was second nature the way he’d ignored it for thousands of years. And now he could feel it bursting from his chest.

“Angel,” Crowley replied sadly, “You belong to _ Heaven. _ That’s the whole problem. You can’t be _ mine. _No matter how badly either of us want it.”

Aziraphale pushed the rest of the books in his arms carelessly on the shelf and properly turned toward Crowley. “There is no Heaven or Hell when it comes to us. We’re on our side, remember? _ You _ said that!”

“Fine. Not Heaven, then. You belong to _Her," _he clarified.

Aziraphale couldn’t argue with that. His throat was stuck. He could feel Crowley pulling away, “This is different. I know it is. It’s love and it’s beautiful and the Almighty wouldn’t keep you from me.” He took a step closer, crowding near enough where he wished he could reach out and remove those blasted glasses from Crowley’s face. He could read his emotion well enough with them, but he’d do anything to see him properly.

"I shouldn't have to remind you, it's not the road to _Heaven_ paved with good intentions."

"I don't care!" Aziraphale huffed. He took a breath and said tenderly, “Crowley.” Aziraphale didn’t know how else he could convince him. “Please. Just kiss me,” he was wrecked, “Just a kiss. Surely we can do that much.” If he was denied he wasn’t sure he could take the heartbreak.

But to his complete surprise, Crowley didn’t.

He took the final step and reached his hands to the back of Aziraphale’s neck. It was desperate and reckless the way Crowley’s tongue dipped into his mouth, and Aziraphale opened for him fervently. How he smelled. ‘Evil’ is what Sandalphon called it, but it was so perfectly Crowley. And the way his fingers threaded into the hair at the nape of his neck. Aziraphale moaned against his tongue, not caring how obscene it made him sound, only appreciating that he was allowed to do so. Finally what he’d been aching for was in his arms as Crowley was quickly abandoning his resolve. 

Aziraphale was suddenly convinced that perhaps Crowley was right about his talents for this particular style of temptation. In the span of a moment he needed to feel more of Crowley against him. For once in his life he was damning the decision to wear so many layers. When Aziraphale tried to get a hand between them to work on the buttons of his vest, Crowley froze. 

And noticing the hesitation, Aziraphale followed in pause.

In a panic that Crowley would once again run, Aziraphale cried out, “Stop!” He snapped his fingers sharply as white ropes sprang from nothingness and wrapped tightly around Crowley’s wrists.

They pulled his arms harshly over his head. His shirt lifted as Crowley twisted his body to figure out where the restraints were tethered.

“What the heaven do you think you’re doing?” Crowley asked with a surprisingly calm tone. He gently tugged on his arms to test the ropes.

“Just listen to me!”

Eyebrows raised high in amusement he replied, “Listening, angel.”

“We can do _ this_, alright? At the very least. This isn’t going to make me fall. Kissing, that is.”

“No, you’re right. Kissing? Fine. I’m on board, you’ve convinced me. Er- tying up demons so you can have your way with them, on the other hand, perfect sign of Heavenly stability, that.”

“You know you can get out if you want to, Crowley. You’re not actually restrained.”

“Yeah, right, see that’s what I’m trying to figure out here. You’ve got my arms lifted, pretty taught, not much slack. Legs are wild, though. Gotta watch out for kickers, Aziraphale.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale chastised. “I’m not actually going to-”

“Going to what, angel? Fuck me against, not only your bookshelf but my will as well?”

“You can get away!” He repeated again petulantly. “You haven’t even tried escaping.”

“Told you, I want to see how this all plays out. What was your plan here, then? Bit kinky, innit?”

“I just wanted to stop you from leaving. You ran off so fast the other day-”

“Yeah but look at me now, eh?” Crowley lifted his eyebrows suggestively. He pulled at the restraints while rocking his hips forward slightly. “Elaborate way to go about it. I like your style. Not sure Heaven would, case in point for my concern, actually.”

“Alright,” he shook his head reluctantly, “Just don’t run away.”

As he lifted his hand getting ready to snap his fingers Crowley interrupted, “Wait!”

Hand still held out, he asked, “Yes?”

“I mean, maybe- uh- this might- I think this could, you know, work.”

Aziraphale’s heart lifted, "Really?"

"Yeah, uh," Crowley hesitated, "I think it might help, really."

In sudden realization Aziraphale said, “Oh! I see. You don't want to tempt me, that’s where all your hesitation stems from. _ You _can’t be the one to cause this to happen.”

“Well, right. But unfortunately,” he began rather pointedly, “At the moment, what _ I _want-”

Aziraphale smiled wickedly, “Doesn’t matter.”

“Just,” Crowley sighed now showing signs of visible agitation, “Angel, just- only kissing okay?”

“Of course,” he smiled. “For now,” he added under his breath, but Crowley heard him anyway.

Standing back a bit, Aziraphale took in the sight of Crowley bound before him. He really shouldn't find it so enticing, but to have the demon in front of him at his mercy did make his heart beat faster. With each little twist and wind of Crowley's torso Aziraphale imagined further exposing that skin. It had been so long since he'd seen Crowley at Caligula's, he wondered if his body had changed much since then.

"Angel, I can sense lust." He sounded amused but Aziraphale couldn't be sure.

Embarrassed, he lifted his gaze quickly, "Sorry." Clearing his throat he added laughing nervously, "Can you really?"

Impatiently, Crowley huffed, "Are we going to do this or-"

Aziraphale's lips fell on his, instantly drowning out his protestation. It was every bit as wonderful as before and his heart was lighter now knowing Crowley wouldn't flee. His hands braced Crowley's jaw as Aziraphale tried to pour every ounce of love into the kiss. He willed so desperately for Crowley to understand how pure his intentions were with the demon. It was love. It had been love between them for so long but neither one could act. He only wanted Crowley to realize that now they had no barriers.

They kissed for some time before Crowley miracled himself out of the ropes in order to run his fingers through Aziraphale's hair. He shivered at how fully Crowley accepted him now. He nearly felt guilty at how easily Crowley gave in to him. He always had.

Aziraphale longed for more but at least now he had hope. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk Good Omens with me at http://candle-jill.tumblr.com


	4. Take a Back Seat

“So who was it then?” Aziraphale feigned nonchalance.

“Who was what?” Crowley replied confused.

It hadn't been long since their new Arrangement had begun. Not nearly enough time to ease his nerves on the state of Aziraphale's station as an angel, but he couldn't keep away. He increasingly found himself in the backroom of Aziraphale's shop with said angel curled up next to him on the small sofa. Crowley started by telling himself he was only doing it to see if Aziraphale was displaying signs that he was falling. Only there to watch for any slight indication he was down a path he couldn't return from. For Crowley to try to stop it or steer him back on course before it was too late. A tall order for a demon, admittedly, but that's what their situation called for. The new additions to their friendship, the kissing, casual hand holding, the quiet declarations, simply perks for babysitting the angel. At least that's what he told himself.

Unfortunately, Crowley knew a weak lie when he heard one.

He watched with interest as Aziraphale’s agitation grew. It was hard not to let a soft smile slip as he fidgeted with his fingers, a dead giveaway that whatever he was about to say was difficult for him.

“You said before that you-” he looked upwards trying to frame his question, “Well, you said you hadn’t been the most experienced, but you had-”

Crowley smiled wide, basking in full enjoyment as Aziraphale struggled, “Are you asking me to kiss and tell?”

“Was that all it was? Kissing?” Aziraphale tried for light curiosity but had gone a rather lovely shade of red.

“Um,” Crowley sighed, “No.”

“Ah,” he continued. “Were there more than one or just-”

“Just the one. But more than once." Lifting his eyebrows he asked skeptically, "Do you really want to know?”

“I suppose it’s impolite if I say that I do.”

“Are you jealous?”

Aziraphale’s face dropped. 

Crowley only meant it as gentle teasing but with what was at stake and with what Aziraphale wanted from him, he supposed the joke was in bad taste.

“I should say I’m not, but that’s obviously a lie.”

“You don’t want to know, angel. He wasn’t important to me.”

“‘He’?” Aziraphale nodded in consideration. “He must have been important in some way if it was more than once.”

The corner of Crowley’s mouth lifted into a smile as he remembered, “I couldn’t stand him at first. A bit sanctimonious but that’s in line with my taste apparently.”

Aziraphale jabbed him in the side, “I’m not sanctimonious! I’m quite literally ethereal and there is a difference.”

“If you say so,” Crowley smirked.

“Alright, go on.”

“What do you want to know?”

“How’d you meet?”

“Oh, ah-” he stammered, suddenly more uncomfortable. “You were there, actually.”

Aziraphale sat up straight, “I knew him?”

Crowley shrugged, “You’d talked to him. Don’t know how well you knew him.”

“Yes, alright,” he said impatiently, “Who was he? When was it?”

“Shit,” Crowley swore, “You’re probably not going to like this.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whined.

“Right. Well, you remember Hamlet?” 

“Of course I remember Hamlet! Who doesn’t. That was one of your better ones, I must say. You really did an excellent job.”

“Well,” Crowley tilted his head.

“You had sex with William Shakespeare?!” 

“Not Shakespeare!” He bolted upright quickly, “Satan, no. How can you think that I’d- with _ William Shakespeare? _”

“Well, how am I to know, you won’t spit it out!”

“I am trying here but you keep interrupting!” Crowley replied.

“Alright, I’m sorry. Continue.”

“Burbage, the actor that _ played _Hamlet. After you suggested it be made a hit I took a more hands on approach with that one.”

“Quiet literally, from the sounds of it,” Aziraphale grumbled possessively. He thought a moment, “Burbage? Yes, I think I remember him. He was in a few of his plays.”

“Yeah, he wasn’t shy about coming on to me for the time either. Right in front of everyone too, cocky bastard,” he smiled fondly. “I actually kind of liked that.” It wasn’t something Crowley looked back on often but his time with Burbage was one of his more sentimental periods. He left before he grew too attached, of course, but it was one of the more difficult relationships with a human to break off. 

“So,” Crowley continued, “After you’d left for Edinburgh he caught me hanging ‘round. I was planning on working up the miracle. You know how some humans are, normally easy to deflect, or aim their efforts elsewhere, but I promised you that I’d take care of Hamlet so I went with it. He was more intelligent than I first gave him credit for. He had some talent in his own right, but I helped him along. He had no idea what he was getting himself into with me, though.”

“So,” Aziraphale shook his head taken aback. Crowley could see he was trying to process everything he’d heard, “How long did this affair last?”

“Er, never really thought about it before. Few months, I suppose. Maybe a year but nothing substantial.”

It truly hadn’t been. Merely a way to pass the time. A way to learn more about the humans. A way to distract himself from the increasing gnawing in his chest when Aziraphale was around.

“You had a boyfriend for over a year and that wasn’t substantial?!” Aziraphale crossed his arms, “How did I not know this?”

“He wasn’t a _ boyfriend! _I’d pop in and visit when I was ‘round.”

“You were living in London at the time! When were you _ not _ around?” 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley turned to him and said gently, “It wasn’t anything.”

“It’s a great deal more than_ I’ll _ ever have with you.”

“You’ve had six thousand years with me. You’d trade that for a few months of shagging?”

Aziraphale pouted, “You’re being preposterous.”

“You know I’m right.”

“No, I know quite certainly that you’re wrong because I’m not going to fall. So all this protestation about saving my virtue from your evil cock is in vain.” 

Crowley shivered. Aziraphale had become bold since the apocalypse, not only with his actions but his words. Crowley wasn’t sure if it was due to the being told no or if something more sinister was occuring. He felt reassured that staying close was the right decision. But there was the dark part of Crowley, secretly delighted with this new attitude of Aziraphale’s that was getting harder to control. Maybe it was the demon in him that made each step closer to the line more thrilling, but he knew it was dangerous.

Then again, he actually couldn't control the way his corporeal form responded to it, all shallow breathing and quickening palpitations. 

And unfortunately for him, Aziraphale noticed.

He leaned in close, nuzzling against Crowley’s ear and whispered, “Or, evil cunt, perhaps? We could make do with either.” 

“Angel,” he didn’t whimper, no matter what Aziraphale may claim.

“If I can’t act on what I want I’ll just have to describe it to you, is that it?”

“Uh, that’s not going to be good for either one of us,” Crowley shifted uncomfortably.

“No, you’re right,” Aziraphale assured, “It’ll be quite _naughty_ I expect.”

“Aziraphale,” he pleaded, “You can’t just- you can’t-” Crowley turned his head, colliding their lips. If he was going to say any of the millions of things Crowley was imagining his resolve would crumble in no time. At least this way he was quiet.

Aziraphale pushed him back against the arm of the sofa. It was natural for Crowley to lift his legs, slide back, and pull Aziraphale more properly on top. Feeling the full weight of him against his chest, it excited him to know he was free to let his hands roam. A sensation Crowley never expected he’d have the fortune to experience. Touching Aziraphale's hips, his jaw, to Crowley's fingers winding themselves in those shorn locks. His heart couldn’t stand that he was allowed this. Allowed to taste him and feel the warmth of Aziraphale’s body flush against him. Faint light radiated around him and Crowley was sure it burned brighter when they were touching. They were pushing it, he knew, but they were clothed and if that’s how they remained it would be fine.

Breaking away from his lips, Aziraphale kissed along Crowley’s jaw and nipped at his earlobe, “You haven’t won here. I know your evil plan was to distract me with that devilish tongue of yours, but I won’t be mislead. Thwarting your nefarious deeds is what I’ve grown best at after all this time.” He sucked the tender skin along Crowley’s neck before kissing back up to his ear.

Aziraphale's palm wandered dangerously up over Crowley’s chest with fingers strumming around the delicate muscles on his neck. Crowley struggled to swallow in anticipation and Aziraphale’s grip tightened around his throat.

“Being fucked by something holy would be good for you,” teeth scratched perfectly against his ear. 

Crowley bit back a moan and trembled at the thought. He’d spent so long pretending it wasn’t the thing he yearned for most, and to hear Aziraphale offer it up like it could really happen was too much.

Aziraphale sat up and adjusted to properly straddle him. He leveraged his weight enough to put pressure around Crowley’s neck, “Divine retribution for millennia of bad deeds. That’s what you want, isn't it?”

And Crowley finally moaned beneath him as he squeezed his eyes shut tight. It had been so long since the day they met in the garden, it was easy to forget Aziraphale was chosen as guardian for a reason. Deigned to protect but designed to fight. With the building pressure on his neck Crowley suddenly wondered what his job had been during the Great War in Heaven. The one resulting in the Fall. Aziraphale was to be feared, that much was certain. And this great beautiful creation had him by the throat and his mercy.

Despite better judgement, Crowley scratched out, “It’s a bit too late for divine intervention for me, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled, a wicked, dark thing that Crowley had never seen on his angel’s face before. He leaned close and commanded, “I _ am _ going to fuck you, Crowley. Maybe not today but it will happen. If necessary, I will fuck the Hell out of you so you can see the goodness left in your soul.” 

Crowley inhaled sharply, “Fucking, Christ.”

“Not quite.” Aziraphale struck fast. His lips collided once more against Crowley’s.

This time Crowley's resolve entirely abandoned him. He bit hard against his angel’s bottom lip. He could taste blood but neither one cared. His hands scratched wildly at the layers of fabric between them. He finally felt the restriction of their clothes. And maybe Aziraphale had a point. They could kiss. They _ had _ kissed, so many times now, and nothing bad had happened. Maybe they could have this too. Maybe Crowley could have one single nice thing for himself, fully without restraint. 

In a snap, both their shirts were gone and trousers loosened. Crowley was surprised to find that he was the one who’d done it.

Aziraphale looked at him in awe, wide eyed with a feral undercurrent that they could both feel strumming precariously between them. And before Crowley could protest, Aziraphale kissed down his chest. Teeth grazed at his nipple and he hissed at how sensitive this body was. He sucked the tender skin making Crowley writhe beneath him. Eliciting stolen cries that dared to escape his lips.

Sharp flashes of want traveled between Crowley's legs. A hard throbbing need against the fabric that still remained there, begging to be removed, only restraining him enough to keep him on edge as Aziraphale's hot mouth worked lower.

Crowley threw an arm over his eyes. He should stop him. They should stop. They _needed_ to stop.

But Aziraphale continued. And no one stopped them. The scratching, and biting, and a clever hand working lower down Crowley’s abdomen. Lower over the top of the tight bulge beneath his pants.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Crowley breathed, not daring to open his eyes to see what he was allowing to happen. He reveled in the waves of _want, need, mine_ that Aziraphale unwittingly emitted. He couldn't think, not with the angel working him so possessively. How could he watch when the thought alone was already enough. He couldn’t bear to see it happen.

But he could feel. And he felt every bit of Aziraphale’s tongue tracing his flesh. He sucked bruising marks that Crowley could hide from eyes but not from his memory. He nearly cried when he finally felt the weight lift, from relief or disappointment he was not sure. Only when he dared to open his eyes did he see Aziraphale nestled lower between his legs. 

He fought desperately to make his voice work. Make his fingers work. Do anything other than stare at him like a love sick idiot. But Aziraphale was peeling back his pants, enough to release the top of his neglected cock. And before Crowley figured out how to make his body cooperate, Aziraphale had his mouth wrapped around him.

He stammered as the wet heat held him tight and he could take it no longer. Aziraphale, _ his _ Aziraphale. He couldn’t be- but he was- how could he-

It didn't take long before Crowley came with a shudder and without warning. A tear slipped down his cheek, which he tilted quickly against his arm to hide.

“Stop,” he breathed quietly. Only loud enough to know he’d actually said it instead of imagined it. His heart pounded, shaking beneath his chest. It wasn't supposed to happen like that.

Aziraphale stopped immediately. The look he shone back was something Crowley would never forget. There was danger there but also uncertainty. 

His chest clenched tight at the sight of him. Love and fear poured from him. Crowley reached for Aziraphale and pulled him closer. Meeting his lips and tasting himself over his angel’s tongue, he tried anxiously to calm himself. When he pulled away he spoke softly but more confidently, “You can’t do that.”

“I just did.”

It was simple enough, and true, but it didn't make him feel any better.

Crowley detangled himself from Aziraphale’s limbs. He held his head in his hands as he sat properly on the sofa. Quickly, he snapped his fingers and returned only his clothes to their proper state. 

“I need to leave. I never should have-”

“Yes, you should!” Aziraphale insisted wildly, “You should have. _ We _ can! Please, don’t go.”

But Crowley only shook his head. “I need to think. I’m not-” he sighed, shaky and uncertain, and stood, “I won’t be gone long. A few days, maybe a week. It’s not for good. I just need time.”

Aziraphale miracled his own shirt back into place and stood next to him. Crowley could feel the panic radiating next to him.

“Crowley, please,” he begged.

Crowley shook his head, “You know, it nearly killed me when you told me I went too fast for you. I've relived it so many times. _I _ went too fast? Hundreds of years of nothing more than stolen glances, and that was too fast for you? But,” he sighed, “I think I understand better now what you meant by it.”

Aziraphale was quiet after that. He offered a sad smile in understanding and let Crowley walk away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk Good Omens with me at http://candle-jill.tumblr.com


	5. What'll It Be Now

Five weeks had passed and Aziraphale had yet to lay eyes on Crowley. He wasn’t worried. Not yet. Maybe he should be. But he had confidence in Crowley that told him he needed to give him space. They had been apart for so much longer in the past, a few weeks was barely noteworthy. Though, that was before Armageddon. Before the kissing. Before the… other thing.

Aziraphale couldn’t bring himself to regret it. It might have been the only chance he’d have to have Crowley in that way and he was not going to apologize. 

Crowley was normally so guarded with his emotions but that night, well, Aziraphale had never experienced the kind of love cascading upon him before. It was dark and suffocating, and in that moment so very brazen. He couldn’t block it out even if he tried. Aziraphale was helpless and could do nothing but bask in the rapacious aura of undiluted adoration. To know it was for him, all of it, that knowledge was too heady to do anything other than act. He _ needed _ to show Crowley he felt the same.

So he did.

The things he’d said to Crowley, in retrospect, were a bit questionable. If he were in his right mind he supposed he probably would be ashamed. The words were so raw and with each vile thing he muttered, more of Crowley’s reverence seeped through. Aziraphale was loath to admit he wanted to see how much he could take.

They needed to talk but he wasn't going to push. Things _ had _moved fast, he could see that now and if Crowley needed time, well, they had more than enough. 

The jingle of the bells on the door announced a guest. When he looked up to his great relief he saw Crowley.

“We need to talk.” Crowley snapped his fingers and the doors locked behind him. A _C__LOSED _ sign materialized as he sauntered through the shop, directly to the backroom.

Aziraphale followed quickly, calling out behind him, “I could have customers in here, you know.”

“You don’t.”

“Of course not, but I could.”

Crowley sighed and sat heavily on his usual spot on the sofa. “How are you feeling?”

“I think I should be asking you that,” Aziraphale replied pointedly and took a seat in his chair.

“Second guessing any cornerstone ideals of faith?” Crowley ignored him. “Ready to topple any major pillars of your personality?”

“My _ foundations _ are secure,” Aziraphale said dryly. “What’s this about?”

“When I fell, I didn’t realize it was happening.”

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake!” 

“Listen to me!” Crowley insisted. “I didn’t know until it was too late. The actual falling part, yeah, that was obvious. But every tip toe out of place to lead me there, I had no idea.”

“No one did,” Aziraphale replied patiently. “No one knew what was happening until it happened. And it’s been used up there ever since as a scare tactic to keep everyone in line.”

“More reason to be careful now, Aziraphale. You openly defied Heaven. They need to make an example of you and killing you didn’t quite take.”

“_They’re _ not the ones that decide that, the Almighty does.”

“Look,” Crowley sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his hair, “I didn’t mean to fall. I never wanted to. But it’s not exactly something you can control.”

Considering him carefully, Aziraphale asked, “Would you go back? If you could? If She allowed it?”

“No,” Crowley spoke quietly, “No, I don’t think I could. Wouldn’t want to. I know too much now and I don’t want to play her games. At least not by Heaven’s rules.” He shook his head, “But you and I are different, Aziraphale. You can’t fall. You’re shit at Heavenly orders, right, but in your heart you’re so good. You’re so pure of intent. And your heart would be destroyed anywhere else, believe me.”

“My heart is already perfectly safe,” he smiled softly, “with you.”

“For fu-” Aziraphale couldn’t see behind the glasses but he knew Crowley was rolling his eyes, “I’m serious here.”

“So am I, you’re just not listening. It’s already been done. Has been for many years. My heart is yours and I can’t take that back. I can’t just stop it. So, if I am _ falling _ there’s nothing to be done about it now.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

Aziraphale watched as Crowley struggled with himself. Finally he threatened, “I can go away.”

Aziraphale stood sharply and stormed over to the couch, “You’ll do no such thing.”

Crowley struggled to swallow, “If it meant saving you-”

“I don’t care!” Aziraphale shook his head, anger and desperation boiled to the surface, “What was all this even for if we can’t enjoy it? Defying Heaven and Hell. Why?”

“Saving humans from the crossfire. Selfishly saving their creations for our own enjoyment. _That's_ what it was for!” Crowley leaned forward, “I’m not _ saying _ I’ll leave. I’m trying to figure this out. Just calm down.”

“I have been calm! I have been _very_ calm but you aren’t listening to me! What exactly is it you’re protesting here? It started as sex, which I admittedly understand, but I don’t think that’s the problem anymore.”

“Look, I think,” Crowley threw his glasses to the side and rubbed his face with his hands, “I think you might be falling. And,” he said muffled into his hands, “I think it’s because of me. But not how I originally expected. I thought maybe a grand gesture could finally-” He shook his head, “But maybe you have been slowly all along. Like me.”

Aziraphale walked over and sat next to him. He ached at seeing his friend so distraught on his account.

Crowley’s golden eyes shined back, wide and fearful, “All these years, getting you to do temptations for me. _ Consort _ with me. Each was just one little step out of line, but after thousands of years, see how far you’ve come?” 

Aziraphale’s heart clenched and there was a knot in his throat. He understood where the fear was coming from but his moral guidance had never wavered and he wasn’t sure how he could convince Crowley. Even through the temptations, he found ways to lessen the damage than if a demon had been doing it. A loophole to make it good, in some small way.

“And, the other night-” Crowley’s breath hitched. “The things you said- I haven't heard you properly swear in-” he shook his head, "Ever! But suddenly it's flooding out?"

“Do you want me to apologize?” He interrupted hotly.

“No, that’s not my point. I should apologize to you for letting it go, you know, _ there.” _

“Crowley, you aren’t my keeper. It seems you feel like you’ve already taken the credit for my falling, of which I haven’t even done by the way, but you seem to forget my own vices. You pointed out rather rudely how I spent my time in the Gentlemen’s Club. That was from no influence of yours. If I’m going to fall, I’ll fall and it’ll be of my own doing. And perhaps you’ll have a part in it but only because of whatever flaws exist in _ me _that make loving you the only way I can imagine living in this lonely world.” He sighed resolutely, “I’m including Heaven and Hell in that and I think you feel the same.”

“I just don’t want to lose you.”

Aziraphale sighed, “You could never. You’re simply stuck with me.”

“But what if-”

“If I fall, I’ll still be here.”

“You might be,” Crowley shook his head, “You might be different!”

“Did _ you _ change?”

“We all did,” Crowley shrugged. “I went from forming celestial bodies to tempting human souls into eternal damnation. It changes a being.”

Aziraphale scoffed, “You weren’t very good at it, though.” Crowley furrowed his brow and before he could protest Aziraphale continued, “That’s a compliment. What I mean to say is that I believe you and I were _ always _ destined to be the ones on Earth. The ones to save it. And precisely because of our flaws at being a demon or an angel. I still believe in the Plan, ineffable or otherwise, and you and I working together was always going to be the only way to save humanity.”

Crowley’s eyes softened. 

Desperate, Aziraphale continued, “Agnus Nutter knew years before we did or else she wouldn’t have helped us survive through her prophecy. This was preordained. All of it.” He grabbed onto Crowley’s hands willing him to understand, “If we weren’t so fond of one another it never would have worked.”

“Angel, I-”

“No, I can’t.” He could feel tears burning at the back of his eyes. If this was the final moment when Crowley would leave him, he couldn’t bear it. “Please, Crowley. I know this to be true. Just trust that at least in _ this, _ things will turn out alright.” He took a deep breath, “If you can’t trust in the Almighty then put your faith in me. Please.” He was desperate.

Crowley swallowed timidly and nodded. He took a deep breath and barely whispered, “Alright, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale’s heart swelled. He leaned forward grabbing Crowley into a tight embrace, “Thank you.”

A gentle hand caressed lightly down his back. “I’ve always been shit at telling you no,” Crowley tried to joke but they both knew it was true.

Aziraphale leaned back, far enough to barely scratch out against his lips, “I love you, you know.” He pressed a kiss gently, hardly believing he was still allowed. 

Crowley kissed back chastly before replying, “I still think we should take it slow.”

“Do you need another six thousand to get back at me for not recognizing it sooner?” Aziraphale tried to lighten the mood.

“I was thinking more along the line of starting with a date.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale pulled away quickly. His heart burned with love. He couldn’t tell if it was his own or if Crowley’s was radiating into him again. It was nearly indistinguishable and that realization made Aziraphale melt further. “Crowley, that would be-”

“Yeah, alright,” he interrupted pulling away. “No need for further overly saccharine declarations. I just mean, let’s both go into this on the same page for once.”

“That sounds lovely,” Aziraphale smiled genuinely.  
  
"Just, leave this one to me," Crowley returned a small smile.

Together they were the supernatural guardians of the Earth, so it made sense to Aziraphale to take the next step as humans would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler! Filler! :S The next one is going to be much longer!
> 
> Come talk Good Omens with me at http://candle-jill.tumblr.com


	6. Take Your Throne

The plan had been to check in on Aziraphale, make sure he hadn’t taken the official sulphuric dive, and then promptly fuck right off. But Crowley roped himself into taking his angel on a date. At first thought it was mostly a good excuse to buy time, to convince Aziraphale they needed to stop before mistakes were truly made. Though as soon as the words left his mouth he knew that, once again, it was a thinly veiled lie. The truth was as simple as Crowley desperately wanting to go on a date with Aziraphale. A proper one. 

Not that he went in for that sort of thing.

But then Aziraphale had to talk, and those words made sense, and why shouldn’t he put his trust in him? If ever there were a being in which he’d place his trust, of course it would be Aziraphale. As long as Heaven was staying out of it this time. 

It was only, he was hesitant because the price to pay if they were wrong was too steep.

So he was stuck. Going in circles, round and round in his mind about what to do, and here it was the angel on his shoulder telling him to sin. 

That’s how he found himself fretting over planning a date for his best friend whom, in a very real sense, he had already been dating for six thousand years. What could they possibly do that they haven’t already done? 

Being seen together would no longer be a problem, though Crowley was still nervous about bringing too much attention to themselves. Heaven and Hell may not be popping in soon, but centuries upon centuries of a certain kind of paranoia was difficult to break. Even though they had the freedom, Crowley couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. 

When he finally decided what to do for their date, he turned to the work that needed done on himself. He had spent entirely too long picking out his clothes and debating what to do with his hair. For a short time he wondered if he should grow it all out again entirely. Be sort of an homage to when they first met. New beginnings and all that. He knew Aziraphale would go in for that mushy effort. But in the end he stuck with what he had been most comfortable with, at least lately. Slightly nicer shoes, though. 

Crowley picked up Aziraphale at the bookshop and drove them to a newly opened restaurant. Well, nearly opened. Crowley knew for certain Aziraphale had never been to it because their official opening night was still several days off. Quite miraculously, the owners decided to test the water on them, how kind.

The dinner went over as planned and Crowley could breathe a sigh of relief knowing that he hadn’t botched things up too horribly. Aziraphale was beaming at him the entire night and, despite his best efforts, Crowley couldn’t help but let a few smiles of his own slip past.

When they were done Crowley arranged for private seating at one of Aziraphale’s favorite theatres. The play wasn’t anything Crowley was interested in, far too maudlin, but he’d heard Aziraphale mention it in passing several weeks back. Back when he was going by _Brother Francis_. At the time he made a note that if they were successful in averting the apocalypse he’d take Aziraphale to celebrate. 

Surviving certain death deserved celebration in his book.

Too much had happened and all so recently. For being immortal, their time with the Dowling's, which was merely a wink, seemed lifetimes ago. 

As Aziraphale smiled gleefully at the production in front of him, Crowley only had eyes for his angel. Aziraphale intertwined their fingers the instant they sat down. Crowley ignored the small thrill it gave him and turned his thoughts to their time undercover. He vaguely wondered if Aziraphale chose to be a gardener on his behalf. He knew of Crowley’s interest in plants and it seemed like an odd profession to take in order to be close to the child.

It gave Crowley plenty of reasons to have a chat with the way Francis was handling the yard, however. There were quite a few miracles to it, which Crowley thought was cheating entirely, so really he figured he should be proud of Aziraphale. Crowley figured it was during that time together when things really changed between them. They had never so consistently been so near each other under a pretense that neither Heaven nor Hell could fault them for. It was thrilling in many ways to wear the mask of the Nanny. 

Sometimes he missed it.

His thoughts flittered to a place where he vaguely wondered if he would be able to talk Aziraphale into trying on Brother Francis one more time. Maybe they could have a _ proper _ chat like he had fantasized of so often at the Dowling's. He spent more than a few nights wanting to sneak away to the cottage in which Aziraphale had resided. The thought had given him such a thrill to wonder what kind of trouble Brother Francis and Nanny Ashtoreth might get up to in the early morning hours. A different world where they really were just the gardener and the nanny. Might feel a bit like closure on that period of their lives.

Crowley shook his head. He supposed he should still be trying to talk Aziraphale out of all of this nonsense. But it was difficult because he couldn’t deny how much he wanted it himself.

And demons weren’t really known for their self control, afterall.

He smiled fondly as Aziraphale’s eyes welled up at a sad part of the play. He looked so relaxed and so free. For the first time in his life he was, and it was beautiful to witness. The last thing he ever wanted was for him to get hurt. And falling was about as painful as it got. 

At that moment, Aziraphale turned his head. He smiled softly before reaching over and removing Crowley’s glasses. 

Crowley didn’t mind, it was dark enough and they had a private booth. He knew Aziraphale liked seeing his eyes.

Aziraphale leaned closer and whispered, “I can feel love radiating off of you, my dear. It’s the strongest I’ve ever felt from you. All evening, really.”

“Yeah, I-” he looked away sheepishly, “Figured, cat is out of the bag now. Might as well let that last wall down. It’s exhausting to hold back.”

“I can understand why you did hold back,” Aziraphale said. “But I’m so glad to feel it now.” Quiet again, he gently squeezed Crowley’s hand and turned back to the play.

Crowley didn’t return his glasses but didn’t shy away from watching Aziraphale either. He was allowed now. Unfortunately, much too soon the play was over and the house lights were illuminating the theatre. He was reluctant to return them but it was easier than dealing with stares and double takes. He reluctantly slid the dark lenses back on his face.

Aziraphale squeezed his hand again before letting go and stood, “That was perfect, Crowley.”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” he tried for snark but it came out annoyingly genuinely smitten, even to his own ear.

They maneuvered their way out of the theatre finally making it to the Bentley where Aziraphale was stood, expectedly looking up at Crowley.

“Right, so,” Crowley started nervously. “I had one more idea but-”

“I’m sure it will be perfectly lovely, whatever it is.”

“It’s-” he paused, searching to find the right word. _ “Intimate,” _ he landed on carefully.

Aziraphale flashed him a devious smile, “I was hoping we’d get to that.”

“Not sex!” Crowley insisted in a hushed tone. “Something else. At my place, I think.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, too crowded at yours.”

“Well, whatever it is you’re planning it sounds like quite the experience.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, it’s just-” Crowley frowned thinking, “I just thought it would be nice.”

“You don’t _ do _ nice,” Aziraphale teased.

“Shut up or I’ll change my mind and go home alone.” Crowley was more nervous than he’d ever admit but this was really the part of his plan he was uncertain Aziraphale would agree to.

“Alright. Sorry. This really has been the perfect evening, Crowley,” his smile was open. “Thank you.”

“Wasn’t so bad, I guess.”

He let a crooked smile slip as he walked toward the Bentley. As he got comfortable behind the wheel and drove them from the theatre, he was briefly reminded of the time Aziraphale surprised him with the holy water. He'd always known that he might need it. He was grateful for Aziraphale's reluctant help. They’d come so far since then. It seemed forever ago and yet compared to the time they've lived it was all so recent. It was amazing that six thousand years could feel so fast. 

Crowley still wasn’t totally accepting of everything Aziraphale wanted for them, but the fact that it was even remotely possible created a knot in his throat. Something too hard to swallow back and ignore. This ridiculous, floppy haired, anxiety ridden being of celestial glory wanted _ him. _ He really wanted him. No more lies. No more euphemisms. No more relationship of false pretenses. Aziraphale not only liked him, but loved him just as he was, and Crowley couldn’t quite grasp it.

He turned his head to see Aziraphale smiling knowingly at him again. 

“What?” Crowley asked defensively.

“Did you always do that before? So often I mean.”

“What are you-”

“The flashes of love.”

“Oh for fu-” Crowley hissed, thoroughly embarrassed, “Would you stop?”

“I’m not the one doing it,” he smirked knowingly.

“No, you- _ you _ just send waves of lecherous possession at me. Worse than your obsession with dessert really, which is saying quite a lot.”

“I’m sure we could find a way to sate-” 

“Wo- would you stop?” Crowley interrupted flustered. “Do not finish that sentence!” He wasn’t mad, just frustrated that Aziraphale had suddenly turned into a dispensary for salacious appetites and Crowley was the buffet. “At least wait until we’re not in the car before you start throwing all your dirty thoughts at me.”

Crowley slammed his foot harder on the gas and relished when Aziraphale quickly grasped on to anything he could find for stability. 

The rest of the drive didn’t take long at all and soon Crowley was stalking into his flat with Aziraphale trailing determined behind him.

After they properly entered, Crowley lead them to his office. The room was cleared out, save some pillows on the floor. He inhaled nervously and said, “Right so. When was the last time you had a stretch?”

“Beg your pardon?” Aziraphale asked confused.

“You know, a proper one.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You wanted to exercise? I have heard of yoga. Is that why you brought me here?” Aziraphale’s brow was furrowed skeptically.

“Yoga?” Crowley replied incredulously. “No, not talking about bloody yoga! Your _ wings, _ angel. When did you last properly extend them out?”

“Oh!” Aziraphale laughed in understanding, then suddenly turned perplexed again, “Um, why?”

“I thought we could,” Crowley scratched nervously at his arm. “I mean, I know _ I _ haven’t had anyone-” he stammered as he tried to think of the right words. “It’s personal you know and, you like personal, and I haven’t ever let any of the humans touch mine, of course not. So I thought it would be like something for,” he sighed, “just us.”

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale said with a knowing smile. 

“So, when was the last time?”

Aziraphale thought, “With Adam I suppose. Just for a stretch. It’s been far longer since they’ve been properly cared for. What with the apocalypse, I just had so much more on my mind this past decade. I’m sure they look dreadful.”

“Can I see them?” Crowley asked nervously.

He was eager to get his hands on Aziraphale’s wings. Not only for the ability to give him something no human could, but because he needed reassurance that they weren’t turning. Crowley couldn’t stop the pestering part in his mind, kicking and yelling that he would never have Aziraphale how he wanted without destroying him in the process. He needed reassurance that those beautiful wings still shimmered crisp and unmistakably white.

“This is what you had in mind?” Aziraphale eyed him suspiciously. 

“Like I said, I’ve never had anyone touch my wings. Not properly, with intention. Not since before the fall. What am I gonna get Hastur to give me a massage?” He huffed a laugh. “I know you were jealous about the human, but this is something I can give you that no one else has had of me. But let me give it to you first.” He waited anxiously, worrying his lip as he nearly dreaded Aziraphale’s reply.

“Not quite what I expected, I must admit,” he said rather disappointed.

Grumbling Crowley said, “Yeah, I could tell what _ you _ wanted by what you were sending me in the car. But you told me we could go slow. So, this how I go slow. Work with me here.”

Aziraphale nodded, “Of course, dear.” He took off his overcoat leaving his vest and dress shirt on, but removed his bowtie. He rolled up his sleeves.

It was practically indecent of him as Crowley watched in anticipation. Aziraphale that state of undress and in his flat? But he couldn’t even enjoy it properly. It’s not like he’d never seen Aziraphale’s wings but this time they could be tainted darker and it would be _ his _ fault. Crowley’s heart would not rest until he knew.

Aziraphale took one last questioning glance at Crowley before he unfurled them.

Inhaling sharp in relief, Crowley watched as pure white feathers expanded and stretched. “Right then,” he indicated to Aziraphale to kneel on the pillows. 

Aziraphale knelt down as he extended them fully. Crowley snapped and some ambient music he knew Aziraphale would find soothing suddenly started playing. Wine appeared in front of him and Aziraphale took a sip as Crowley positioned himself behind him. 

He started by massaging Aziraphale’s shoulders then moved to strumming his fingers along the length of his wings. He soothed them gently, secretly looking for any hidden greys beneath the pillowy white feathers.

Aziraphale shivered, “Crowley this-” but he didn’t finish. He bit back a moan as Crowley’s fingers began to work at the delicate patch that met his back. “Do-” he spoke breathlessly, “do you _ know _ what this feels like?”

He didn’t, he realized. He couldn’t remember a time when anyone had helped him with grooming his own wings. He knew it felt good and that it was sensitive, but it couldn’t be much different than a massage, could it?

Crowley leaned close to Aziraphale’s ear and replied softly, “Enjoy it, angel.” He left a kiss at the side of his neck as he worked through the feathers. 

He could feel waves of lust emanating from Aziraphale. He smiled to himself, proud as far as his skills were concerned, but didn’t comment further. 

“This is-” he moaned wantonly as Crowley worked a particularly challenging spot. 

With the waves of desire shining around him, Crowley could no longer deny that he was also growing interested. No matter how he tried to fight it, the cloud of longing surrounding them was too strong.

“Crowley, this-” but he still couldn’t find the words. 

Aziraphale trembled beneath him and Crowley didn’t know how to make himself stop touching the angel. He could feel the warmth radiating from him as well as a soft celestial glow. Each puff of breath, each soft pant elicited from Crowley hands working out knots that had never been touched before. Crowley never had much of an appetite, unlike Aziraphale, but he’d feast gladly off of the stolen moans from him any day. 

Crowley leaned in again to kiss his neck. He couldn’t help himself as he buried his nose against the curls at the nape of Aziraphale. The scent of him was intoxicating and only intensified by his holy glowing aura. Crowley had to hold back from grinding himself against his back. He wanted to be completely and fully blanketed by him. A base yearning to be close. It was too much and not enough and he so desperately needed more.

Aziraphale suddenly pled, gasping shallow breaths as Crowley kissed softly against him, “Wait! Stop, Crowley.”

Reluctantly, he pulled away. He was dazed under the influence of Aziraphale’s lustful aura. Mixed with his own growing interest, stopping was nearly too much to bear. 

“Sorry,” he said, finally stepping back. “I got a little carried away.”

“No,” Aziraphale’s wings trembled slightly from the loss of warmth at his back, “It’s perfect, really. This is so much more than I-” Obviously flustered, he didn’t finish. Aziraphale stood from the floor, “We need your bed. Now.”

“Angel,” Crowley warned, taken aback but too tired to fight.

“No, I mean. It would be more comfortable.” He was sweating and disheveled and Crowley needed to feel him against his skin immediately.

“Yeah,” he agreed softly, “Alright.”

He grabbed Aziraphale’s hand and led him to his room. It was nearly as minimal as the rest of his place except his bed. It was the only excessive comfort in the flat. He was about to guide Aziraphale to the top of it (those white wings draped against the rich black silk was a sinful enough thought, let alone watching it happen), when he stopped.

“Can we trade? I’d like to see yours, they’ve always been so sleek and beautiful.”

Crowley swallowed nervously then nodded.

“And may I-” Aziraphale brought his hand up to Crowley’s shirt, tugging meaningfully.

Crowley nodded again, despite his better judgement. There was no sobering up from this. He was still lost in the emanating aura of Aziraphale’s need. He’d give him anything.

Aziraphale snapped his fingers and Crowley’s shirt miracled itself off his body and folded neatly into a pile on his dresser. He stood motionless as Aziraphale removed his glasses and set them on the pile with the rest.

“Your wings, dear,” he was breathy and tender.

Without thought, Crowley uncovered them and felt another wave of lust as Aziraphale eyed them over.

“The bed,” he ordered.

Crowley wondered vaguely if he was in a trance. He walked to his bed and spread himself out on his stomach, stretching his wings and arching his back as he adjusted himself.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale barely whispered. 

He looked over his shoulder to see Aziraphale’s eyes roaming over him. Full of need, and want, with more than an edge of desperation.

“Go on, angel,” his voice sounded hoarse to his ear.

Aziraphale took only a moment before he sprang to action, hurriedly climbing onto the large bed. He knelt next to Crowley and asked timidly, “Is it okay- I mean, there would be more leverage for-”

Crowley turned and nodded.

Quickly, Aziraphale straddled his legs over Crowley’s. He took an anxious sigh as he moved closer. But he leaned up on his knees before Crowley could feel him push against his ass. Crowley was about to say something teasing when he suddenly felt Aziraphale’s hands wrap around the base of where his wings met his exposed back.

“Fuck,” he sighed as he dropped his face into the pillow he was now grasping. 

It wasn’t just a massage, it was truly miraculous what was being done to him. With each working movement of Aziraphale’s hands, Crowley ground himself further into the bed, biting back moans and swearing into his pillow. He turned his head and trembled, breathing heavily as Aziraphale’s fingers worked through the feathers. Crowley was sweating, he could _ feel _himself sweat and couldn’t stop it because all that mattered was Aziraphale’s talented hand squeezing and massaging and pressing into his feathers and flesh and never stopping. Pushing along the bone and carding delicately through.

“Fuck, Aziraphale,” he breathed again as he clenched his eyes shut tight and trembled through a particularly intense working.

Aziraphale’s fingers teased down his back as he lowered himself against Crowley’s ass. Crowley could feel his hard length against him and before realizing it he pushed back into it. Aziraphale’s hands wandered back up to that traitorously tender spot where his wings met his back and pushed once more against the skin.

“Fuck, fuck,” he mumbled against the pillow, “Christ, do you know how that fucking feels?”

Aziraphale hummed in approval.

With his wings fully extended, Crowley could feel shivers reverberate through, all the way from the base to the tips. They shuddered from millenia of neglect to sudden overstimulation. And Crowley couldn’t breathe. He didn’t need to, but he couldn’t if he tried. He’d never felt such a fully encompassing ecstasy pass through him and knowing Aziraphale the reason was nearly enough to make him weep. 

Aziraphale grasped hard against the bone of his wing base and rutted himself more confidently against Crowley’s ass. Crowley was torn between chasing fiction for his own, neglected, now hard length, against the mattress or pushing back against Aziraphale to feel him flush against his ass.

“Fuck me,” he let escape with a breathy moan.

Aziraphale paused. He sounded equally as wrecked when he asked, “Was that an exclamation or a request?”

“Both,” Crowley admitted, before thinking.

In an instant, he heard Aziraphale snap and suddenly his trousers and pants were gone. Much needed relief against his hard cock now freed as he had space from being too tightly restrained. One of Aziraphale’s hands moved to grasp himself tight and he guided it to rub the head of his throbbing cock against Crowley’s ass. He squeezed the wing with his other hand and Crowley inhaled sharply from the stimulation. 

He bucked backwards against Aziraphale. Rocking, he encouraged, “Do it, do it. Do it, angel.” Begging, happily delirious in the cloud of bliss surrounding them, Crowley perfectly imagined himself taking Aziraphale, tight but easily enough to let him in. It was all he wanted, wasn’t it? Never anything else. He needed him. He needed to feel every inch of him. He was absolutely certain he’d discorporated if he didn’t have Aziraphale’s cock in him nearly instantly.

He felt as Aziraphale lined himself up, “Crowley, are you su-”

Crowley pushed back hard. He cried in pleasure as he felt the tip of Aziraphale breach his body, “Yes! Just fuck me already!” It was as he had hoped and the way made easy by his imagining.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale cried. He trembled as one hand gripped Crowley’s hip.

“Yes,” he breathed out, trying to rock further against him, “Move now, angel. Please!”

Aziraphale took a shaky breath and thrust himself in, fully seated in Crowley’s body. Both swore in gasps as they adjusted to the sensation. 

Crowley couldn’t open his eyes. He squeezed them shut and listened to the soft pants of Aziraphale. Aziraphale’s hand slid up from his hip to his lower back, then once again to the aching spot where his back met his wing. He trembled as Aziraphale wrapped his hand around the base of each one. A sudden image of reigns flashed in Crowley’s mind and he shivered, knowing what Aziraphale planned to do next. He hissed as he felt Aziraphale pull his cock from his body, then shuddered as he used Crowley’s wings to pull him back onto him.

“Fu-” he breathed weakly as he was held into the mattress. 

“Did I hurt you?” Aziraphale asked panting softly.

Delicately, Crowley moved his legs to position himself on his hands and knees, giving Aziraphale more leverage. “Harder, do it harder,” Crowley pleaded.

There was a pause before he felt Aziraphale push into him, slowly, far too slowly to do anything but drag out pleading moans. 

Then Aziraphale said quietly, “Let me know if this hurts.”

Aziraphale nearly withdrew quickly and then thrust fully home, pulling back on Crowley’s wings as he began to pump into him. He built his rhythm into something hard, fast, and completely abandoned. Aziraphale finally rutted into him relentlessly and Crowley pleading for more. Harder. Faster.

And Crowley shook from it. The way Aziraphale’s hand squeezed too tight on his wings made him shiver, like bolts of lighting hitting and spreading waves of shocks through his blood with each and every thrust. So fucking unrelenting and stronger than anything he can remember feeling, more like floating than flying. He vibrated from the onslaught of sensations overtaking him.

“Angel,” he breathed. “Angel, more,” he repeated mindlessly over and over until he wasn’t sure he had ever said anything out loud.

But Aziraphale heard, and he pumped himself so thoroughly, so fucking strong, again and again until Crowley could feel the waves taking him, settling deep in his cock. He came, whimpering Aziraphale’s name, pushing back weakly as he tried to chase his orgasm like it would never be enough.

As his senses returned to him he realized he felt fanning air over his quickly chilling body. He continued to push back onto Aziraphale’s cock, wanting him so desperately to come inside him. He glanced over his shoulder to see with each rocking motion of Aziraphale thrusting into him, beautiful white wings beating down driving him further into Crowley’s body.

He grew hard so quickly at the sight, feral and wanton, taking his pleasure from Crowley’s body like it was his to do with as he like. And it was. Crowley would give him anything. Do anything for him. He was naive to think they ever could have ended any other way.

He reached a hand around to himself and began to pull. Crowley felt his orgasm building faster. Then Aziraphale released the relentless grip on his wings and he could feel him licking and biting on his shoulder. 

Aziraphale mumbled over and again, “So beautiful. Mine, Crowley. Be mine.”

“Always, angel. I’m yours,” he turned his head into Aziraphale’s.

Then he felt a great shiver as Aziraphale cried out his name and came deep inside him.

Imagining the way they looked was enough to make Crowley come, once again. And he slipped bonelessly to the mattress, with Aziraphale nuzzling peacefully against his neck, the pleasant weight on him too good to be real.

Neither one should be short of breath, exhaustion shouldn’t really take them, but Crowley couldn’t move. 

He felt as Aziraphale’s hand began to trace light patterns against on his shoulder. He listened as Aziraphale sighed, something melancholic and resigned.

“What’s the matter,” Crowley asked quickly, pulling himself so reluctantly from beneath the angel.

“Nothing,” he replied sadly.

“Angel,” Crowley begged. “What’s wrong?” At the same time as he miracled away the mess, he tucked his wings back out of existence to make room so he could lay beside him on the bed.

“I love you,” he said simply.

“Yeah, I think we’ve covered that before.”

Aziraphale let a tear sneak by, staining his face as it fell to the bed. “You’re the single most incredible creature I’ve ever been fortunate enough to know and tonight was nearly the best of my life.”

“Right,” Crowley’s brow furrowed in confusion. “So why are you crying, angel?” he asked carefully.

“I don’t want you to leave. I wouldn’t change it for nearly anything, but I am sorry this happened if that means you’re going to storm off again. I know I agreed on slow. I should never have-”

“Shh, Aziraphale. It’s okay,” Crowley leaned close. He kissed him, pouring every ounce of love and affection he could manage into it. “It’s okay,” he repeated softly against his lips. "It's okay."

Hearing Aziraphale’s concern finally settled something deep in his chest. The increasing fear he had that perhaps Aziraphale was walking further from his divine grace was settling. _This_ was the angel he had always known. The one he always loved. And no matter what happened he would remain, at his core being, the same.

“You won’t leave then?”

“Erm- no, I won’t leave,” he said. Teasing he added, “Where would I go? I live here.”

Aziraphale didn’t laugh, “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Crowley?”

The worry so clearly etched in his voice eased Crowley’s hesitation. “We were always meant to be here, Aziraphale.”

Brow relaxing, Aziraphale replied smiling softly, “About time you join me.”

“Join _ you?! _ ” Crowley scoffed, “It has been less than a century that you even realized what it was you felt! Imagine dealing with this for thousands of years. Imagine the frustration and the- the- the _ gentleman’s club!” _

Fully smiling now, Aziraphale kissed him, “I am terribly sorry about that.”

“You’re not.”

“No, I’m not. But I_ am _ sorry it hurt you. I really had no idea.”

“You’ll have to make it up to me, you know,” Crowley smiled wickedly.

“Oh? And how might I do that?”

Crowley paused for a moment before deciding to ask, “Would you care to give Warlock a visit?”

“Warlock?” Aziraphale asked in confusion. “That’s not exactly what I was expecting you to say while we're lying naked in your bed.”

Ignoring him, Crowley prodded, “Nanny and Francis should visit, I mean.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale replied, still confused. Then he smiled and admitted, “You know, I used to fantasize you’d come to visit me in the night.”

Crowley nearly laughed at the admission. The two of them alone at night wishing for the same thing. “Daydreaming only leads to trouble, Aziraphale,” Crowley teased.

Smiling knowingly, Aziraphale replied, “Sometimes it’s worth it.”

“Yeah, alright,” Crowley smiled and leaned in to kiss him. To finally taste him properly without fear or hesitation. 

And if Aziraphale’s wings looked a little darker, Crowley was certain it was only a trick of the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I appreciate any comments and kudos. It isn't supposed to be too negatively ambiguous and is meant to be a stand alone happy ending, but I may write a sequel with Aziraphale falling so I wanted to leave it open to reader interpretation. If you've made it all the way through, thank you so much! 
> 
> Come talk Good Omens with me at http://candle-jill.tumblr.com


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